Lizards
by danceswpenguins9
Summary: Oneshot. Dean only has 27 days left to live. He is arrested and forced to undergo psychiatric evaluation. Pre-season four


Lizards

Summary: Dean only has 27 days left to live. He is arrested and forced to undergo psychiatric evaluation.

"Come on in and take a seat, Dean," the psychiatrist said kindly, motioning to a uncomfortable looking metal chair opposite her. Dean shuffled into the bare room the best he could (what with the damn chains around his ankles) and sat down across the table from her.

"Well, this is cozy," he said, smiling wryly and glancing around in the dim lighting. The room was normally used for interrogation, so it was rather small and unpleasant looking, with dented metal walls and a large 'mirror' on one side.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" the psychiatrist asked, concerned. She was middle aged, with a round face and mousy brown hair pulled up on top of her head.

"Nah, I usually wear neon orange one-sies and handcuffs. I'm perfectly comfortable," Dean drawled sarcastically back at her, watching for a reaction. She merely continued to smile placidly.

"Sarcasm is an excellent defense mechanism. But I want you to know, Dean, you don't have to be on the defense here. You can trust me," she told him, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table. A large diamond ring glittered on her ring finger.

"Sure I can." Dean said, pointedly glancing over at his reflection in the mirror, knowing there were surely plenty of investigators and cops watching from behind it.

"I'm not here to judge you, or interrogate you. I'm just here to have a nice chat with you and make sure you're okay," she said, gesturing with her hands entirely too much.

"Right. You're here to make sure I'm not crazy," Dean translated.

She smiled, waving a hand. "Dean, lets not use that word. Do you know why you've been arrested?"

"Yeah. The idiots-" he gestured vaguely at the mirror "think I killed a bunch of people."

"Indeed. You are suspected of nearly eleven murders, two kidnappings, a major robbery, and several other smaller crimes," She told him, her eyes gauging his reaction.

"Uh huh, like I said, they think I killed people." He shrugged, realizing suddenly that he really wanted a donut… Glaze or chocolate frosting? Sprinkles? Maybe one of those cream filled ones…

"But you believe they are wrong," she suggested, interrupting his thoughts of pastries and how horrible prison food was.

"I _know_ they're wrong. I didn't kill any innocent people," Dean told her, a bit moodily.

"You say you haven't killed innocent people. It sounds as though you suggesting you have killed people, but they somehow deserved it. Is that true?" She asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows, deciding he didn't like her or her pompous attitude too much. "Before we go any farther," he began, leaning forward to match her position, "define people."

The psychiatrist blinked, surprised. He smirked inside; pleased he'd caught her off guard. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "Well, I believe people are defined as other human beings."

"Well then, no. I don't have a habit of murdering human beings." Dean told her coolly, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, but I've read your files, Dean. You believe there are other beings out there. Creatures you claim can take the shape of humans. Do you still believe that?" she inquired.

"Mmhmm." He nodded, bored. He thought psychiatric evaluations were supposed to be more entertaining. Where were the ink blots, the dolls, the hypnosis?

"Have you killed those creatures?" she asked, her mouth twitching just a bit too much and her tone just a bit too fake. She was trying to humor him, pretend to be interested.

Dean frowned, realizing he'd have to make a decision. How to play this? He could either play the Yes, I'm crazy, or No, I'm just a murderer card. Hm... He decided he'd go with his man Jack and take the loony bin psych ward over lethal injection. Okay, let's be crazy, Dean thought to himself.

"Yes. That's what I do," he announced finally, leaning even closer and giving her a wicked smile. "I hunt them."

She was trained to control herself, but he could see the fear plain in her eyes, all traces of humor gone. She couldn't help or hide the fact that he was scaring her right then. "And do they deserve it, Dean?" she asked, quieter than before.

"Yes. They're evil. I have to stop them," he whispered to her, softly, slowly. If he was going to convince her he was a nutjob, he'd have to go the distance. Major creep factor, kiddies.

"What are they?" she whispered back.

Dean debated that one. What should he tell her? Shape shifters? Nah, not crazy enough. Werewolves? Demons hell bent on taking over the world and enslaving human kind? Nah, that's a bit too sane as well. "Lizards," he announced finally. Her eyes widened, and he struggled not to grin. "At least, that's what they look like, underneath it all. They can appear to be humans, but they're natural form is very different… You can see it on camera, in pictures… In they're eyes…"

"What about their eyes?" she wondered, now barely audible.

"They're reptilian. Not many people know about it, but they're taking over," Dean told her, making his voice grow more urgent. "It's a war, don't you understand that? No one understands. I have to fight them, I have to stop them!" He paused, grimacing and rubbing his forehead as though he were frustrated.

"So the people you are accused of murdering…?" she prompted him to continue, and Dean noticed she had inadvertently leaned back in her chair, away from him.

"They weren't 'people'. They were the enemy. I didn't want to, but I had no choice… I'm trying to save humanity, but they-" Dean shot a glance over at the mirror again, before continuing with even more urgency in his tone "_they_ are traitors. They only arrested me; charged me with these crimes so they could get rid of me, put me in jail and out of the way."

"They? The police?" she asked, confused.

"_Yes_, the police!" Dean said, gritting his teeth, faking aggravation. Damn, he was a good actor. And the conspiracy theory he was cooking up now? Very fine work. "The police, the government, even the damn school teachers, they're all traitors to humanity! They're selling out, working with the enemy…Eventually we'll all just be dead or enslaved, if it doesn't stop. This is all a trick to prevent me from hunting them, to get rid of me…Can't you see that? Please, see that," he pleaded, giving her his best impersonation of Sammy's puppy dog eyes. She stared back at him, and he detected just a trace of pity in her eyes and expression. It was working.

"You believe your doing the right thing?" she asked.

"Yes," he told her earnestly. "Like I said, I haven't murdered innocent people."

"And the…the lizard people," she began, a trace of disbelief in her voice. "Do you feel bad for what you've done to them?"

"No," he told her simply, cocking his head to the side as if he couldn't understand why he'd feel bad.

"What about…when you kill them…Do you feel sick to your stomach, nauseous? Do you ever have bad dreams and can't sleep afterwards?" She continued. He raised his eyebrows. She was inquiring as to his morals. Hmm…

"No. I don't feel sick or nauseous. I have bad dreams, sometimes, but that's just because no one believes me," he told her, allowing a bit of fear into his face. The pity in her expression increased. Dean couldn't help but think 'And the Oscar goes to' as she frowned.

"Are you scared of them?"

"Yes," he whispered in response and…yep, he got his lower lip to tremble. What could he say, acting was a gift.

"What about your brother, Sam? He knows about them too, doesn't he?" she wondered.

"Yes, I told him. I told him how careful he had to be, that they'd… they'd trick him, take him over. I don't know why he left me," Dean said, looking up and to the left of her head with a blank stare.

"Dean?" she tried to get his attention. "Dean?" He jerked his eyes back to her face. "Where is Sam, Dean? This is very important."

Dean narrowed his eyes. That was a load of bull, he decided. All that 'You can trust me' crap was a lie. She was trying to weasel out of him Sam's location. Well, she could just forget about that. The cops had themselves one Winchester brother, but they wouldn't ever collect the pair.

Little did they know, they'd caught Dean not out of some crack police work but simply because he'd let himself be caught. He was tired of running, and with only 27 days left in his life, it really didn't matter where he'd spend them. Besides, surrender meant they might lay off Sam, let him go. As long as he could convince them Sam was innocent.

Which meant… Cue tears. "I don't know," Dean told her finally, after a long pause. His eyes watered most convincingly. "He…he never liked what I did. He knew I had to, I kept telling him, but… he always tried to get me to stop, always interfered."

The psychiatrist pursed her lips. "Sam never helped you kill them?"

That was the big question there. Answer correctly, and Sam would be left alone, guilt free and innocent, as always. "No. I normally tried to hide it from him when I was on a hunt, so he wouldn't stop me. He never killed any of them," Dean swore.

She nodded. "And you have no idea where he might have gone?"

Dean's eyes narrowed yet again and he frowned. She was pissing him off. Didn't he just tell her Sam was innocent? As in, no further need to search for him? Stupid bitch. He decided to have some fun and scare her a bit more. "Why…why do you want to know?" he asked suspiciously, stopping his crying routine in favor of a more intimidating one.

"We are just concerned for his safety, that's a-" she began to say, trying to calm him down.

"'We'?" he spat. "We!? You… your one of them!" Dean jumped up from the table, his dinky metal chair falling back onto the floor with a clatter. "You said I could trust you! Your one of them, aren't you! Liar!" He started into a rant and rave then about lizard traitors and such, the psychiatrist backed away from him into the corner of the room. She was shaking, trying to stop him, calm him down. And failing.

The door opened then, several uniformed officers entering the room. Dean stopped his yelling and looked from them to the psychiatrist once, and suddenly couldn't help himself. Heh heh. They were so gullible. Had he really convinced them he was crazy that easily?

Honestly, the whole lizard invasion thing? Didn't they watch movies?

The police moved towards Dean slowly. One of them held his hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. "We're not going to hurt you. Calm down," he said repeatedly.

Dean just rolled his eyes and started laughing. Hysterically. "'course you aren't gonna hurt me, lizard boy!" he said between chuckles, attempting to slap his knee despite the handcuffs. "Heh heh, lizards! Leee-zards!" He held his hands up to his face, darting his tongue out in his best lizard impersonation before cracking up again.

The officers just looked at each other, some bewildered, others apparently horrified at Dean's 'insanity'.

Aw, they just don't the joke, Dean thought sadly. Two men grabbed Dean's arms, forcing him out of the interrogation room and down the hall. As he was forced back to his cell, where he had spent the previous week, Dean was still laughing rather breathlessly. That was the most fun he'd had since convincing one of the patrol guards he was a cannibal. Fava beans, anyone?

Slightly shaken, the psychiatrist emerged from the room after Dean and watched him being dragged down the hall and through a door. She shook her head, sighing.

"Well?" one of the FBI agents asked, grimacing. "He's a wild one, isn't he?"

She nodded. "He's completely out of his mind," she stated. "He's not fit to stand trial. I suggest he be placed in a psychiatric ward for the rest of his life."

Rest of his life? Yeah, all 27 days of it.


End file.
